


Ghoulish Intentions

by Steinbjoern



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: Attempted Sexual Assault, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Humor, Slow Burn, Tags May Change, Violence, Warnings May Change
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-07
Updated: 2017-08-22
Packaged: 2018-11-10 09:01:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 17,969
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11124030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Steinbjoern/pseuds/Steinbjoern
Summary: The sole survivor's story from the day she inadvertently helped a serial killer and landed herself in Goodneighbor.Seemingly slightly unhinged and trading barbs with the town's mayor, she was on the verge of a long journey, picking up a slew of undesirables to help her find her son.





	1. All art is ephemeral, am I right?

"Unless its keep dumb assholes away-from-me-insurance, I'm not interested.” The woman at the gates had raised her voice somewhat, revealing both annoyance and worry.  
Hancock sighed. The moron was at it again. How many times this month? Fahrenheit smirked at him with a told-you-so expression, and nodded to the pair behind him.

“Wait it out, or do something?”

He turned around. The woman looked like she'd been in an earthquake and then crawled out of the ruins. There was mud all over her face, her armor and the clothes beneath it was either brown or red. She was clearly favoring her left leg, clutching a dirty dufflebag under one shoulder and an old rifle slung over the other. Behind her the big dog was snarling, but held position on her command. One hand was carefully thumbing the holster of her handgun, eyeing not only Finn, but the group of drifters behind him, not certain on whether she would be attacked for defending herself with more then words, he thought. If Finn's little blackmail succeed, he was leaning towards waiting this out and deal with Finn later, until he saw the flash of blue from under the mud on her sleeves. A fucking _vaultie_. They were usually nervous enough to start firing at everything in sight if they got scared, and this one seemed to have been through the ringer already today.

“Stay or go, stay or go?” Fahrenheit was grinning now.

Hancock would wager a lot of caps his body guard had a bet on this, and gave her a scolding glare that made her grin even wider.

“..big bloody accidents," came Finns voice.

Hancock groaned and made a point of swaggering forward.

  
**12 hours earlier**  
Nora was not happy with how the gallery thing played out. Walking south from Bunker Hill, the gathering of raiders on the east bank had caught Dogmeat’s attention, and she’d followed him to the entrance, sniping off the huddled raiders at a fair distance before going any closer. The rifle wasn't scoped, and she wished she could afford the .308 up at the Hill, but affording a gun for every occasion was a little out of her reach at the moment. The diopter sight would have to do for now. She did okay at semi long range and it rarely got in the way when in closer quarters.

Inside, there had been raiders on every floor, and she'd stalked each and every one down and shot them in the back, aided by Dogmeat’s forewarning growls. The gallery floors were so dilapidated that the sound of gunfire had traveled though walls and floors, masking her whereabouts to a limited extent. Traps had gone off everywhere before she entered the place, evident by dismembered bodies on the floor and even some pinned to the roof. The walls themselves had been covered in disturbing paintings, some still slick with blood and others so old the blood and innards had turned moldy and green. Nora vaguely remembered something about dead bodies being able to produce a dangerous gas if stored warm for too long, but most of the intact bodies were still fresh. The stench in every corner of the gallery was indescribable, and she nabbed Dogmeat’s bandana and tied it around her face. Smelling wet dog was far better than the metallic odor of blood that permeated the house. The dead displayed raiders whom were still clothed she checked for caps and ammo, but found only a small card with a heartfelt greeting from the gallery’s owner. Nora felt a tinge of regret for entering this hellhole, but a morbid curiosity kept her searching for.. something or anything that could explain this.

The holotape on a rather fresh corpse gave enlightenment to the men’s last moments. This Pickman, it seemed, had it in for raiders, and if the circle of decapitated heads set up in the living room hadn't convinced her of the man’s insanity, the humming on the tape certainly did. Having solved part of the mystery, she began moving towards the exit when the sound of an explosion followed by a high pitched scream rocked the basement. Dogmeat perked his ears and gave her a quizzical look. Nora rubbed her eyes, not really keen on braving a dark basements set with traps with a dog by her side. Still, it was better to kill the remnants of the raiders here than have them following her bloody footsteps and possibly ambushing her in the ruins. She told Dogmeat to stay put, and after picking the lock she descended down the stairs. The scream had been replaced with a strained sucking noise, and a second voice was frantically trying to calm either himself or the one making the sound.

“Nonono, you gonna be fine, I'll bring the leg and we'll put it right back.”

_Shell shocked_ , Nora thought. _Works out for me then._ She moved quietly down the last step and the man trying to gather the pieces of his friend’s leg was a mere 5 meters away. Lifting the rifle to her chin and tagging the raider with the green circle, she took one more step. The floorboard made an almost imperceptible squeak, but the raider threw himself down on the body of his injured friend, and scuttered into the dark. Fuck! She ran after him and had just passed a small chem-lab when she heard the blood curdling sound of a mine beeping in front of her. Twice fucked! Nora skidded to a halt and managed to run three steps back towards the stairs when another explosion erupted behind her, sending shrapnel and debris flying all over the basement. The impact flipped the chem-lab and threw her into the concrete shelves on the opposite side of the room. She felt several ribs crack, and the metallic taste in her mouth was no longer just a metaphor. Gasping for breath and coughing at the same time, droplets of blood seeped into the bandana. Pulling it down, she struggled to get back on her feet. Her knee felt like it had been crushed by the impact. She sensed more than heard her own rasping breath as the sound of approaching footsteps deafened out every other noise, from the ringing in her ears, her own labored breath and to the crackling of bits of paper set alight by the blast.

“Didn't know there was another one, did you? Walked right into that one, bitch!”

The raider was tall and scarred, his face and arms marred by years of sleeping outside in irradiated rain. Among the debris there was a piece of metal sticking out, and he bent down and picked it up. A tire iron.

“Can't find the words?” he said while she coughed more blood. “Stupid and mute.”

Nora glared at him. The bastard was right, she had bungled this pretty good but there was no way in hell she was willing to let him see her admit defeat. The rifle was out of reach, but the handgun was still in its holster, judging by the feeling of it digging into her hip. Unfortunately, the raider seemed to be thinking the same thing.

“You want it? Then try for it.” The last words were a harsh threat.

The desperate attempt was doomed to fail, but she tried it anyways. Her hand jerked towards the gun while attempting to throw herself far enough back that the tire iron wouldn't connect. Both attempts failed. She cried out as the hard metal nearly broke her right arm, and felt her consciousness almost slipping away. The raider smiled, and bent down to let his fingers trail down the side of her face, making her jerk away and grimace. He enjoyed her discomfort, and continued touching her face, before sliding his fingers down towards her neck and grabbed around her breast, squeezing hard. Nora gasped in pain.

“You don't know suffering yet, but you will. And I'll enjoy your screams until your voice breaks.”

The man was so focused on running his hand further down her body he didn't hear the stairs this time, nor the soft patter of paws that snuck up behind him. Nora, on the other hand, saw her salvation. One chance, she prayed.

"Dogmeat, GET!"

Dogmeat didn’t make a sound as he jumped on the raiders's back and pulled him backwards. Nora rolled to the side and grabbed a jagged piece of metal from the chem lab with her functioning arm, thrusting it into the mans groin. He fell back with a yell that was cut short by the dog’s teeth ripping out his windpipe. Sounds of wet gurgling filled the basement while the body was twisting on the ground. Only after the death spasms stilled did she dare to breathe again. Dogmeat pressed his nose against her face, and the usually coldness had been replaced by the warmth of fresh blood. Nora crawled up and sat against the wall, silent tears escaping her eyes. She hated her own weakness, but in the aftermath of nearly getting blown up and raped, she allowed herself this much. Dogmeat whined beside her, and Nora dug her fingers into his thick fur and sat there sobbing silently for a long while.

When her eyes got used to the dark of the low lit basement, she noticed a new painting tacked to a ruined atelier. It was mostly shredded by the blast, but she could make out faces of screaming raiders. _Good,_ she scoffed. They deserved it. All of them. After another five minutes she decided that she had indulged long enough, and began to check herself and Dogmeat for injuries. The dog was fine, but her knee hurt like hell, her battered arm hurt like hell, and she felt shrapnel sticking out from her back and on top of that the broken ribs. Hellish all around. Add to that, she only had 3 stims left, and that would barely begin to scratch the mess her body was in. Dogmeat had begun digging in the debris around the chem-station, and yelped happily when he found a small medikit, containing a syringe.

“Give it here boy. Can you find some more?”

The dog wagged his tail frantically and started searching the rest of the cellar.

By some miracle Dogmeat managed to find one more stimpak, and after administering four of them, Nora was back on her shaking legs. She had one left for extreme emergencies, although now she’d began to think of this whole world as a constant state of Defcon 1. There was nothing she wanted more than to escape gruesome house, but the raiders had come here for this Pickman character. Judging by the hole in the wall, that search continued down into the sewers. Beside her the dog was whining and shifting his weight from paw to paw.

“What do you say, buddy? Go down or go up? I say go up.”

He jumped down into the pit and sniffed the rotting bodies.

“Great. We're going down,” Nora muttered to herself.

Carefully she climbed the ladder into the pit and pulled out her rifle whilst checking it for crap and debris that could cause it to jam. Nate would’ve been proud. Dogmeat had already disappeared into the breached wall, and she followed slowly. A few meters inside he stopped by the sewer water and fixed his eyes on her in self pity.

“Not a chance pal, you asked for this,” she whispered and waved the dog forward.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know what I did last summer, which is write a lot of storyline for this fic, but I never managed to sort it out and start getting it out there. This won't have a regular publishing date, as I have one big story I write weekly, but as often as I can I will churn out another chapter. Enjoy what I've done so far, any mistakes, let me know :D
> 
> P.S, that raider crying over his dead friend in the basement actually happened, including me running into that stupid mine. The scene after that is invented, of course. XD


	2. Let's make a deal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nora stumbles into Goodneighbor, and Hancock gets acquainted with Dogmeat.

Nora felt like her whole body was just going through the motions in the sewer, and the effect was helped along by a few pills and a shot of what looked like psycho. She usually sold the drugs she picked up, but today was a day for every new horror she could imagine. Crouch, duck, aim, shoot, on an endless repeat of blood and flying body parts until she and Dogmeat reached the upper alcove of something that looked like a boiler room. Nora checked the old saw-off shotgun she’d picked up from a drowned safe. It was slow to reload, but in a small room the gun would make a big mess. The low snarl of her dog went unheard by the men inside. The raiders had encircled a small strange man wearing an old checkered suit. Despite his perilous situation, he kept smiling politely. It had to be Pickman. All the raiders were pointing their weapons on him and yet he seemed unperturbed.

“We got you Pickman. Think you could hunt and torture our people to your hearts content?”

“Don’t waste breath on him, Slab. Just kill the fucker.”

“Oh no. I’m gonna enjoy every second of this.”

“Ready?” Nora whispered to her snarling companion.

“Go!”

She pulled off both triggers and the man called Slab was cut almost in half.

“Shit, he’s got friends!” one of the raiders screamed and dived behind some empty barrels. Dogmeat was after him at once, chomped down on his leg and dragged him into the open. Nora followed up by firing 6 shots from her pistol in the man’s chest. Another man screamed in a high pitch behind her, and she spun around to see the polite face of Pickman twisted into the mocking grin of a zealot, repeatedly stabbing the raider in his neck with a knife. The last would-be home invader charged her and caught her in the midriff. The pain of her already wounded body hitting the bricks almost made her pass out. The man managed to throw a few good jabs in her ribs before Dogmeat was on his arm, ripping flesh and tearing tendons with his vicious bite. Nora pushed the man away and managed to raise the pistol to his head. One single shot, and he slumped to the ground. The shadow in the corner of her eye told her Pickman was approaching, and she turned to face him, gun only slightly lowered.

“Whew. That was close. Thank you. Those people deserved worse than death." His voice was soft and melodic.

“Why did they want you this badly.” Nora felt the room spin and rested her arm against a pillar.

“A small disagreement. They objected to my hobby of collecting their heads.”

_Rapists. Murderers. Raiders. The lot of them deserved worse._

“Cold blooded killers,” she spat and clutched her side. More blood was seeping from her puncture wounds.

“They got their pound of flesh, but I’ll have mine in return. Let me reward you.” Pickman turned around and searched inside a small hidden cavity in the wall.

Nora shook her head and waved him off.

“Would’ve done it either way.”

His smile became almost hypnotic, as if she was a strange new creature.

“All the more reason to reward you. Here.” He smiled that overly polite smile again and held out a small satchel. Nora accepted it carefully. Inside was a heap of loose caps, a few pieces of silverware, two stacks of prewar money and a very distinctive knife. She picked it up and examined it.

“A memento of our time together. Now, if you don’t mind, I have work to do.”

“I have a favor to ask.” Nora grimaced and hid the blade in a leather sheath under the armor. “Do you know the way to the nearest settlement? I’ve been badly injured.”

“Hmm..” Pickman glanced at her wounds. “I suppose that would be the gaudy place a few blocks from here.”

“Would you mind showing me?”

“I’m afraid I don’t go near the place. Complications, you see. I can mark it on that pip-boy of yours, if you like.”

“Fine.”

She held out her hand and his pale fingertips ghosted over the screen, marking a place a few blocks away.

“Careful in that town. Some of the people are barely better than raiders. Luckily for the world, they will always meet someone like me in the end. Au revoir.”

 

* * *

 

The few blocks that separated her and pain relief was excruciatingly slow. Nora had been forced to stop every 20 meters and rest, before she managed to stumble into the town of.. Goodneighbor?

And now her journey to find a doctor had come to a screeching halt. Not because of a dozen raiders, not because of explosions, but a lone greedy stupid fuck who couldn’t leave well enough alone. All the people behind him pretended not to notice the shakedown. Why would they, Nora thought bitterly, they probably all got a cut from him later on. This new world was a shithole.

 

“Whoa, whoa. Time out. First timers are guests in this city. Lay off that extortion crap.”

The man who’d spoken swaggered forward, looking like something out of a hideous nightmare. His face was shriveled and taut, stretched over what little flesh remained on his face. No ears, she noted. How did that hat not fall into his eyes? She almost broke into a mad laughter, because as he came closer, she saw that the man had no irises, nor sclera, only dark wells where his eyes should be. A ghoul, in every meaning of the word.

“Why do you care? She ain’t one of us.”

The washed-out coat he wore should make him look ridiculous, but somehow he radiated danger. And power.

“What, no love for your mayor, Finn? I said, let her go.”

Dogmeat was waving his head from ghoul to man every time one of them spoke, as if he understood the conversation. Nora gave him a quick pat on the head. Mayor. That explained the power vibe. As for danger, he looked like a gust of wind could push him over, a thin scrawny man, no match for the brawling Finn. Finn appeared to be thinking the same ting.

“You’re soft, Hancock. Keep letting outsiders walk all over us, and one day there’ll be a new mayor.”

The ghoul’s eye sparkled in the dim light.

“Come on, man. This is me we’re talking about. Lemme tell ya something...” The knife appeared in his hand with a blink of an eye, and Finn had taken two stabs to the gut before the second blink. The big man slowly keeled over, twitching and coiling in the last few seconds of his life.

“Now why did you have to go and say that, huh? Breaking my heart over here.” He smiled and turned to Nora.

“You all right, sister?”

“Your face.. you’re a ghoul..” Nora felt her head swim again. All those pills and shots was wearing out at once.

“Like it? I think it gives me a sexy king of the zombies kind of-.. whoa!” He caught her just before she hit the pavement.

 

“Wow. Looks like your charming personality caught another one,” Fahrenheit shouted from the corner of Kill or be Killed.

“Funny, Fahr. This ain’t how I planned to make her fall into my arms.” Hancock tried to balance the unconscious woman in his arms so he could carry her inside the state house, when he became aware of a low threatening snarl from the street. He slowly maneuvered so he could face the beast, and the dog’s dark eyes met his. Its fur was matted with blood, and the white fangs and cold stare promised more of it spilled if he perceived his woman to be in danger.

“Easy there, dog. Your mistress is hurt, and I only wanna help.”

“Are you really talking to that animal? Just shoot it,” Fahrenheit called.

“How would that endear me to the owner?” Hancock hoisted the vaultie over his shoulder. “Now look here, boy. I’m gonna take her inside, and you can tag along if you don’t chew on my shins.”

He could’ve sworn the dog glanced down at his skinny legs as if considering it, before it gave a soft ‘woof’ and stopped growling.

“Good boy. Let’s go.”

 

**43 minutes later**

Hancock hadn’t intended to feel the shapely rear of the woman he carried, but every time he had to shift grip while taking her upstairs reminded him that he was holding a living breathing woman, filled out in all the right places. He’d wiped away some of the blood from her face after laying her in his bed, and despite some recent scratches and newly formed scars, she was the epitome of smooth skin and impossibly pale. A true vault dweller. One of the watchmen was dispatched to fetch Doctor Amari, and even if she hated house calls, she would not refuse the mayor a simple request.

When Amari descended from the state house attic, Hancock was already having a pleasant buzz.

“What’s the doctor’s verdict? She a goner or what?”

“She’ll live, only god knows how. Multiple lacerations, shrapnel buried in her back and a knee almost twice it’s normal size, 5 broken ribs and a host of other minor injures. Either she loves trouble, or she has some impressive enemies.”

“Why can’t it be both?” Hancock grinned and flung his feet on the table. “Anything interesting in her bag?”

“Not everyone cares to make as much trouble as you, Hancock. And I didn’t check her things. My field is the brain and the body.”

“I mostly prefer body,” he said smilingly.

“I’ll bet you do. Let her sleep, give her some water when she is awake and small morsels of food. Nothing excessive.”

“Sure Doc, you’re the expert. As you say, so it will be done.” Hancock waved a hand to the nearest guard who disappeared downstairs to find food and water.

“Just be careful when she wakes. By the looks of it, she’s been fighting raiders, and might think she’s in a bad spot when she comes to.”

“I gotcha.”

 

* * *

 

It took three days before Hancock had the chance to put Doctor Amari’s theories to the test. He’d stripped the woman of all her weapons, just in case she freaked out and went on a mad killing spree inside his residence. It would not look good on either of them. The strangest thing he found was a note with a heart written in blood with ‘Thanks, killer’ written in large letters. Weird woman. That huge dog of hers had refused Hancock to sleep on one side of his own bed, and he was now spread out over the couch in his ‘office’ when the woman tottered carefully inside.

“Awake, vaultie? Ain’t often I can’t spend the nights in my own bed nowadays.”

“Your bed? You’re the ghoul mayor of Goodneighbor, right. Did the extortionist live?”

Her voice was raspy, but she seemed remarkably clear of mind.

“Nah, he’s dead. Gonna miss him when the next super mutant attack rolls around. How you feelin’?”

“Half dead,” she said with a wince and lowered herself carefully down on the opposite couch.

“Which means you’re half alive, and that’s something.” He sat up and lit a cigarette. “Wanna tell me what a vault dweller is doing in my town?”

“Trying to find.. several things.”

“Such as?”

“My items?”

Hancock chuckled and kicked the bag from under the table. The vaultie stared at him like she was expecting a trap, but opened the bag and saw all her possessions still inside. She flashed him a grateful smile. Hancock quite liked her face lit up like that.

“Got that. Next?”

“Medical assistance.”

“Well, you got that too. Next?”

“Work. I need caps.”

“Don’t we all. Work, huh? Hmm.. Tell you what. You seem like you can hold your own, when you’re not blown apart. I got reconnaissance needs. Up north there’s a place called Pickman gallery. Lot of weird talk coming in about that place. It’s raider territory up there, but they’ve been quiet. Like uncomfortable post-coitus quiet? When you’re back on your feet, snoop it out, and give me the word.”

The woman sat before him went blank, then leaned back into the couch, like a coil ready to spring. A certainty of a different kind manifested itself in Hancock. Despite her injuries and compromised position, she had fire burning inside. And he’d never been one for resisting sticking his fingers in the candle flame.

“I might be interested. Let’s talk money.”

He chuckled. So it was to be like that.

“Okay. Usually, a job like this pays 200 caps. But I like you, so let’s push it to 250.”

The vaultie tried to hide a knowing smile.

“You said things have gone quiet up there. That means extra risks to cover.”

She apparently wanted to rob him blind, but like the moth he was, he couldn’t resist it.

“I like where your head’s at. Let’s make it 300 caps.”

“If you can’t put real money on the table, I’m out.”

Hancock stared at her and shook his head with an amused smile. Clearly, the woman was just as greedy as every wastelander and drifter out there, but still. There was something about her.

“Ruthless! Nice. You might actually live long enough for me to pay you. All right, 400 caps, but that’s all the town coffers can bare.” He said it with a definite air of finality. There would be no more haggling today.

“All right. Got yourself a deal.”

She reached into the bag and fished out a small tape and tossed it to him.

“Actually, I’ve already been to Pickman gallery.”

That made him sit up straight. She’d fleeced him good and proper on a job already done. Fuck!

“No shit? All right, what’dya find?”

The vaultie gave a mirthless chuckle. “Let’s just say, when all those bodies start decaying, Pickman's art won’t have much resale value..”

Despite being thoroughly ripped off, Hancock couldn’t help laughing.

“Heheheh. Well, they say all artistic inspiration is ephemeral, am I right? Wish I could say that was the most twisted thing I’ve ever heard of, but it ranks up there.. Top three..” He shook his head.

“I’ll put the word out. Tell people to stay clear of that area. Hiring you was definitely one of my best moments. Here, spend the money in good health.” That last comment hit a nerve, and the woman gently prodded her injured knee.

“Okay, now let’s talk debt.”

“Debt?” Hancock leaned back, raising his brow in surprise. “What debt.”

“For my care and stay these last.. how many days?”

“Three,” Hancock said, still looking confused.

“I don’t know how much you spent on me, but let’s say 150 caps for the doctor’s work, I saw the stitches,” she said and counted up the pieces.

“Then let’s say 100 for room, board and foodstuffs..” She counted another 100 and put them back in front of him.

“And 50 for protection of my protection, meaning you fed my dog and didn’t shoot him. I know he can be difficult with strangers.”

She swept the last 100 in her pouch. “I probably should pay you more, but I need these for ammo and stimpaks. I’ll make you a deal of not haggling on my next job if I can stay one more day?”

Hancock flicked his eyes between the heap of caps on the table and the woman now standing in front of him. In reality, he’d never even considered to ask reimbursement for the services he’d given her, but that stubborn pride of hers would probably not even budge if he told her. And caps were always good.

“Okay, vaultie. It’s a deal. Do I get a name now?”

“It’s Nora, and I-..”

She started to sway, and Hancock barely made it over to catch her before she fell. She was wearing less clothes than the last time he held her, and she still felt impossibly smooth. Behind the couch he heard a familiar growl.

“Yeah yeah, I feel ya. She’s the one throwing herself in my arms, ya know?”

The dog stalked out from behind the couch, and its posture made it clear it wasn’t accepting that excuse. Hancock sighed. Fine. Back to bed with the woman, and he back on the couch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just trying out some things.


	3. Deja Vu

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nora gets to know Goodneighbor, and Hancock goes for a tour of the town, with unexpected results.

Another two days passed until Nora was feeling well enough to move around from the bed without fainting into the arms of anybody standing close to her. That kind of thing was embarrassing as hell, but her great comfort in all of this was Dogmeat. Whenever she went to the bathroom he followed her closely, and if he thought one of Hancock’s watchmen were getting frisky, he bared those white fangs in a snarl. The dog acted as her second shadow, and only Hancock himself was tolerated with a benign disdain. A watchman had tried to kick him once when he was eating, and Dogmeat snatched his foot between powerful jaws and pulled the screaming guard around the room until Nora arrived to pry him away. Hancock shrugged it off as self defense on the dog’s part, but the watchmen were treading carefully around the animal since. However, when she was rested sufficiently to walk around without passing out, it was time to vacate the old ghoul’s bed. Nora still wasn’t quite used to his fleshless face, and she had to stop herself from staring too much. It would not be polite, and he’d been nothing but helpful.

“So, finally leaving me, are ya?” Hancock flipped his knife deftly between his fingers.

“Yes, I think I must. Can’t be lounging here on your hospitality all my days,”

“Sure you can. As long as I can have the use of my bed again, you’re welcome to spend every night in it,” he grinned and gave her a suggestive pat on the forearm.

Nora recoiled in horror.

“Hey now, I wasn’t gonna force ya or anything,” Hancock said with a slightly offended expression.

That was the truth, and Nora knew it. He’d not do anything against her will. Unlike..

“Sorry. I just.. Up at Pickman’s, there was this raider who tried to..” She stopped and gave a nervous chuckle. It was a trite excuse, she could take the pat on the arm, the main problem was Hancock being a damned ghoul.

“Ah, doesn’t matter. He’s dead now. They all are.”

His eyes, which were already all black, glinted like dark bottomless wells at her words.

“It matters. Christ, if I’d known that I wouldn’t have..”

“Stop. Not your fault. I’m just not in a.. flirtatious mood right now. Uh, maybe later?”

He seemed to ponder that for a minute, then broke into a big smile.

“Whatever you say, sister. Just remember, you’re not obliged to anything, except do my next job for almost nothing.”

Nora sighed. “That’s right. Two more days I can’t afford to pay. Whatever you need done, I’ll fix it, nearly free of charge.”

Hancock grinned. “Fine by me. Go see Charlie down at the Third Rail. He’s got the details on the job. Walls have ears around here, gotta be careful.”

Nora turned to leave when he called after her again.

“You should think about having backup with more firepower than him.” He pointed at Dogmeat. “The dog is likely to get hurt.”

Dogmeat narrowed his eyes and stared at the ghoul.

“Sorry, pooch, but that’s the truth. What would your mistress say if you up and died on her, eh?”

The only reply he got was a short sharp exhale of air, and a threatening glare.

“Don’t scoff at me, hound. If you snuff it, she’ll come cry on my shoulder. Whaddya think about that?”

“All right, all right. There’s enough testosterone in here to choke a brahmin,” Nora cut in the strange conversation. “Come on boy.”

“Make up yer mind, woman,” Hancock grinned and moved to rise from his comfortable seat.

“Not you, and you know it,” Nora smiled back.

He sunk back down and threw his hands in the air. “Fine. Later then, vaultie.”

“Later, mayor.”

 

Nora strolled out of the state house with Dogmeat in tow, and breathed the fresh stench of garbage and urine for the first time since she’d entered this town. It was pungent. She felt in dire need of a drink, and headed down the alleyway towards the bar Hancock mentioned. Along the way she passed a number of ghouls and assorted drifters, all of them looking relatively safe and relaxed. The walls of Goodneighbor offered basic comforts to it’s people, but Nora didn’t feel like she could truly trust anyone here yet. The mayor was hospitable yet lecherous, and she wouldn't be surprised if the main reason for the rescue was to charm her out of her panties. Whatever kind of person this Charlie guy was, he was probably just like his boss. The doorman was another ghoul, sharp dressed and gruff, with a suit that looked like it was a little too big for him. In the aftermath of the apocalypse, there were few tailors that could take proper measurements.

“Hancock says newcomers are welcome at the rail. Just remember, Charlie serves the drinks, I deal with the drunks.”

Ham the doorman was a no nonsense kind of guy, and even as skinny as he was, she could see the gun bulge underneath his left arm. She nodded to him and flashed him a smile.

“I understand. On my best behavior.”

“Mmph. Sure. Entertainment is downstairs.” He waved her on.

Nora descended into the bowels of the town, and the siren call from the loudspeakers called to her. This music, in such a place? With every step she took, she got a better view of the stage and the woman swinging her hips to the rhythm in the tightest little red dress she’d seen in two hundred years. Completely mesmerized, she walked up to the counter and ordered a whiskey. The bartender was a bowler-wearing robot, and the drink was lukewarm. Still, the tune was good and the clientele didn’t look like they were about to murder her any time soon, with the exception of the two tall men who’d just walked in.

“Now that you’re all liquored up,” the robot whirred, "got a proposition for ya.”

So this was Charlie, the mayor’s representative.

“I’m listening.”

“I need a dirty dirty girl to do some dirty dirty work. Blood on the pavement, bodies in the ground, that sort of thing. Interested?”

“I guess I am.”

“I got a certain anonymous client who’s paying-..” He stopped and reconsidered, “A few bobs for a cleanup job. Three locations. Everyone inside. No witnesses. Only catch is they’re all in town, in the old warehouses. I can’t use my regulars, too noticeable, and that’s where you come in.”

Nora could hear the internal servos in his dome grind out a sarcastic tone.

“The job’s 50 caps. Payment after it’s done. And don’t worry. I know when it is.”

Fifty damn caps.. three warehouses with multiple targets would set her back a lot more than that just in bullets. Dogmeat made a whine beside her, and she absentmindedly gave him a quick pat. Bullets flying everywhere in a closed space could easily hit her little buddy. Perhaps it was time to heed the mayor’s advice about firepower.

“Are ya taking the job or what?” Charlie grumbled.

“I’ll get it done,” she sighed.

“You betta’. Now go out there and bust some heads.”

Internal political struggle in Goodneighbor was fierce, apparently, and she owed one of the power players a big favor. Might as well get it over with.

The two burly men in green headed for a backroom, and shortly after there was a cacophony of loud voices.

“...-urprised to find you in a dump like this MacCready.”

“I was wondering how long it would take your bloodhounds to track me down, Winlock.”

MacCready. Some of the watchmen had mentioned that name. Nora hit back the last of her drink and followed the noise.

“..-o deliver a message.”

“In case you forgot, I left the Gunners for good.” MacCready sounded surprisingly young.

“Yeah, I heard. But you’re still taking jobs in the Commonwealth. That isn’t going to work for us.”

“I don’t take orders from you anymore, so why don’t you take your girlfriend and walk out of here while you still can.”

Nora concealed a smile. Cocky as hell for being such a little runt. The black man beside Winlock seemed riled at the last remark.

“What? Winlock, tell me we don’t have to listen to this shit..”

The man named Winlock held his hand up to stop the argument.

“Listen up, MacCready, the only reason you’re not filled with bullets is that we don’t want a war with Goodneighbor. We respect other people’s boundaries, play the game. Something you never learned.”

“Glad to have disappointed you.” The young man was like a terrier, too bold for his size.

Winlock laughed. “Play tough all you want, if we hear you’re operating in our territory again, we won’t care about consequences. Got that?”

“You finished?”

“Yeah, we’re finished, Come on, Barnes.”

The men cast disapproving glares in Nora’s direction as they left. Well kept raiders, by the look of them. She would not stay her trigger finger if she met any green clad men out there in the ruins. Time to meet the man himself. Nora walked up to him, and was met with a sour frown.

“Look, lady. If you’re preaching about the Atom, or looking for a friend, you’ve got the wrong guy. If you need a hired gun then maybe we can talk.”

“Well, since you ruined my Atom speech, tell me about those guys before I offer you a job.”

MacCready snapped his head up, almost hopeful. Nora searched in her pocket for that little tin can, gently pried the lid open and fished out a grape mentat. Time to test its usefulness.

“Couple of morons, looking to climb the ladder of success by stepping on everyone else on the way up. That’s how it it when you run with the Gunners.”

“The Gunners?”

“One of the biggest gangs in the Commonwealth. More like a cult, really. Crazy, and as tightly wound as they come. Stuck with them a while, cause the money was good, but I didn’t fit in. Decided to make a clean break and fly solo.”

From the rust on his voice it was clear he hadn’t talked this much in a long while, unlike Hancock, who was all gravel despite talking all the time. During his little monologue, she’d slipped the pill in her mouth and swallowed. She hoped they worked quick.

“Now, what about you. How do I know I won’t end with a bullet in my back.”

Nora smiled. “You don’t, but that’s part of the risk, right.”

“Right. My price is 250 caps, up front. And there’s no room for bargaining. What do you say?”

Despite his young years, MacCready’s teeth were blackened and jagged, and he was jittery like a small rodent. Perhaps the side effect of running with a gang of murderers. Nora flashed him another huge smile.

“Everything’s negotiable. Would you take 200?”

His face twitched into the semblance of a smile.

“You drive a hard bargain, lady, but you just bought yourself an extra gun. All right boss, let’s get out of here.”

Someone trod on her foot, and when she looked down, Dogmeat gave her a look of utter betrayal. As in hers.

“Hey boy, this is for your own good. It’ll keep you safe while I do something very dangerous.”

Dogmeat was inconsolable and whined loudly. Flicking his eyes between them, MacCready gave a small cough.

“I suppose I should go get ready for this dangerous assignment. You let me know when you’ve.. done with whatever you’re doing here.” He picked up his rifle and strolled out.

 

Nora headed back to the bar to buy some purified water for Dogmeat during his approaching exile at the Rexford Hotel, when an entourage of men and woman clattered down the stairs. It was led by a man in a pinkish costume and a tricorner hat. The mayor himself was soujourning the bar, with a host of willing subjects behind him. Nora chuckled and turned back to Charlie, finalizing the order. As she was stuffing the bottles in her bag, the mayor had caught a glimpse of her, and ordered his retinue to wait for him as he sauntered up beside her. His presence was still unnerving, him being a black-eyes ghoul and all, and that skin was enough to make her own skin crawl, but it would be rude to show it after all his help. Even if she was now working nearly for free, wiping out his political opposition.

“Glad you’re in here, spending my caps in my bar.”

“Your bar?”

“Yeah, didn’t White-chapel Charlie here tell ya? It’s my place. Like it?” He raised two fingers, and Charlie swept in with a double.

“Music’s good. Drinks are warm.”

“Ain’t got need of a cooler, when a man’s tired he’ll drink anything.”

“I’ll take your word for it.” Nora lifted her bag, but Hancock pulled her back and onto a chair.

“Wait a moment. Let’s chat for a bit. So, uh, you actually met Pickman?”

“Yes, down in the sewers under the gallery. He was surrounded by raiders and I saved him.”

“You saved a crazy serial killer?”

“Yes,” she said simply. When she saw his look of disapproval, her eyes hardened.

“Pickman might be a lunatic, but he only killed raiders. The world could use a little more of that kind of insanity. And I wasn't in a particularly forgiving mood after that feel-up earlier.”

“You had killed his friends,” Hancock remarked glibly, but when she glared at him, he shrunk a bit under the heat. Nora’s nostrils flared and she said with an unnatural calm;

“Yes, I killed them. I didn’t try to torture or rape them. I am not like the raiders, nor am I like Pickman. But, if I have to choose between them, I'd take Pickman any day of the week.”

Hancock took a sip from his drink, trying to ease some of the tension.

“What was he like?”

“Grateful. Gave me his knife and some money from his stash.”

“So yer a woman of means, and yet you do your best to bankrupt me,” Hancock chuckled.

She eyed him sideways, deciding not to rise to the bait.

“Taking your advice.”

“Don't remember that advice was to take the shirt off my back.”

“No, that’s what you'll beg me to do later.”

Hancock snorted into his drink, and wiped the alcohol off his face with the sleeve of his coat. So he wasn’t impervious to flirtatious banter himself. Good to know, Nora reflected.

“I've hired an extra gun. He usually hangs around the VIP-room? MacCready, I think it was.”

This was apparently interesting news to Hancock.

“MacCready huh? That’s a hell of a gun to have at your back. Pickman must have given you his entire fortune.”

“Nah, MacCready gave me a discount.” Nora winked at him.

“Mac gave you a discount?! Yeah right, what did you do to him in return?” Hancock gave an insinuating smile, and Nora bristled at the idea. She wasn’t in the habit of buying favors with sex.

“Trade secret,” she bit back.

Those grape mentats she’d taken to deal with MacCready were still in effect, and Nora quickly surmised another way to squeeze the rude mayor of Goodneighbor for a few more caps, and at the same time wipe that smug smile off his face.

“Though, if I ever tried my hand at that line of work, you’d be dead broke within a week.”

“Is that a fact, sister? If it weren’t terribly impolite to imply a woman is lying, I’d be calling you out right now.”

“Aren’t you the all-knowing leg-over-artist.”

Behind the bar Charlie dropped a bottle and tried to conceal a chuckle. Hancock looked confused.

“I don't get it.”

“How about a bet? I say I can walk out of here right now, with your entire harem trailing behind me.”

Hancock stared at her, then glanced over at the group which was impatiently awaiting his return.

“Ain’t no chance in hell, vaultie. They know what I got, and are eager for it.”

“150 caps?” Nora smiled her most insidious smile.

His gaunt face split in a huge grin.

“I just can’t resist you. Sure, 150. Go get ‘em.”

 

* * *

 

Hancock ordered another drink and turned around to watch the spectacle. His bodyguard had taken her usual spot on the couch, and had doubtlessly overheard the entire exchange. Somewhere in the back of his mind Hancock repressed his ire at the vaultie not expressing any sort of jealousy at him walking in with woman and men fawning over him. He’d hoped for some sort of response, but this hadn’t been it. Fahrenheit tried to look inconspicuous, but failed miserably. He could see her shaking with silent laughter, and was thoroughly annoyed that she could see through him this easily. There wasn’t really a lack for woman and men in Goodneighbor who would join him on a tour of the town, but they usually wanted something in return, protection, money, drugs, a favor, you name it. This vaultie continued to baffle him with her strange ways. Add to that, MacCready was expensive no matter the discount, and no one without a serious problem hired an ex-gunner.

Now she was chatting up Jorgen, a man who usually preferred his own kind to that of the fairer sex. Hah. She would learn now that.. What? The vaultie leaned in and kissed Jorgen, and his eyes widened in surprise before he put his arms around the woman and drove his tongue into her mouth. Hancock had intimate experience with that, and this was not going his way. By now, Fahrenheit didn’t even bother to hide her laughter. Jorgen was pulled away by a women who also gave the vaultie a quick once over, then pressed against her lips like she wanted to join her at the seams. Hancock’s jaw dropped. What the hell was going on here?

The vaultie, Nora, pointed at him with her thumb and said something he didn’t catch, then nodded towards the stairs and smiled sweetly. The group took one look at Hancock and shrugged apologetically, then practically dragged the vaultie between them up the escalator. Fahrenheit appeared beside him, gasping for air between guffaws.

“I have never seen the like. You’ve been out-flirted in your own bar, by a woman you’ve never even slept with. I should’ve ran up to Ham and made a wager with him. Would’ve made a killing.”

“Shut it, Fahr. She must’ve tricked me, or payed ‘em.” He suddenly felt angry. She’d cheated. Again.

“Why don’t you go and find out?”

He pulled his tricorner down and stomped after the group. That was exactly what he’d do. Damn vault dweller, showing him up in his own town.

 

Hancock made it up the stairs when he saw that Ham was absent. That was never a good sign. Then he heard shouting outside and ran out the door. A group of Marowski’s thugs were pulling on Jorgen, trying to make him come with them. On the other arm was the vaultie, holding him back. Beside Nora the big dog was snapping at everyone who tried to come close to her. Ham had his shotgun aimed at a second group of thugs. Hancock cursed inwardly. Jorgen had probably been caught stealing from his last boyfriend again.

“Let ‘im go, Daxton, I’ll pay for whatever he took.”

“Not this time, mayor. This rent-boy needs to learn his place!”

“I’m not your rent-boy,” Jorgen yelled at the man pulling at his arm.

“No? Then what do you call it, stealing my money after every time we fuck?”

“I’m sorry, I needed the money for.. for..”

“Drugs, I’d wager. Time to pay the piper. I won’t kill you, just take the beating, Jorgen. You know you deserve it.”

A sharp click of a second cocked shotgun was heard, and Hancock was now aiming at Daxton’s head.

“I said, let ‘im go.” The cold dark stare was enough to make the man release Jorgen’s arm, but he was not happy about it.

“Come by my office later, I’ll pay ya for whatever he took, pride not included.”

The last words was said as Daxton was walking away, and Hancock lowered the shotgun to give his friend a good earful of how he felt about thievery, no matter the target. He’d always hated thieves, and the anger made him not see that Daxton had spun around and picked up a broken bottle from the ground, charging straight at him.

“Look out!”

The call came too late to raise his gun, but someone threw themselves between Hancock and the jagged bottle aimed at his neck. Nora caught the bottle over her left eye, and blood began spurting from a circular gash on her face. She fell into him, and Hancock instinctively grabbed her before she dropped to the pavement. A loud gunshot rang out and felled Daxton where he stood. Ham turned back to the group he held at bay.

“Still have one round left. Now get, or get gotten.”

The crowd dispersed with angry murmurs, but not one among them wanted to die for Daxton.

“Is she alive?” Jorgen asked, tripping his feet anxiously beside Hancock. “She tried to help me.”

“Apparently, she does that a lot,” Hancock said and lifted her into his arms. “Get doctor Amari.”

A low, menacing and very familiar growl made its way from the ground. Hancock sighed.

“Knock it off, dog. You know the routine by now.”

He hoisted the unconscious, bleeding Nora over his shoulder once more and made his way back to the state house.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm having a blast writing this, seeing as much of the story lines were done a year ago, and I now have to refresh my ideas a little before I put them out there. Hancock is such a shameless player when you first meet him, and I can't tell you have many times I've wanted to strangle all the gals and dudes that threw themselves at his feet when traveling the Commonwealth. Even married men, I mean, the guy from Nordhagen Beach, in front of his wife?! wtf..  
> So I decided to turn the tables a bit, letting the ghoul taste his own medicine XD


	4. Dogfight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hancock and Dogmeat have a disagreement, and Nora awakens in a familiar place

After taking the last steps up to his room, Hancock staggered the last few meters over to the bed and gently dropped the unconscious woman down on one side. Coming up the stairs behind him was a soft patter of paws, and before he could close the door, the German Shepard had jumped onto the bed and curled into a ball. The ghoul and the dog stared at each other.

“One day, fur ball, you’ll be relegated to sit outside the goddamn door while I have my way with your mistress. I hope the screams will hurt those pointy ears of yours.”

He knew it was stupid, talking to the dog like it understood him, but something about its expression riled him up.

The dog unfurled itself and stood on the bed, almost in the same eye height as himself. The upper lip curled, showing a long white fang. Then it yawned, like all of Hancock’s threats were idle blather.

“Think I’m kidding, eh? Well let me tell ya, ain’t a woman in this town who wouldn’t love gettin’ her some of this,” he said and pointed at himself. “This one will just take a little longer to a-..”

The dog waited until Hancock had his mouth wide open, then sneezed violently straight into his throat.

“Gaarrgh!”

He hacked and spluttered to get all the mucus and dog saliva out, while listening to the dog’s amused chuffs. Hancock pulled his knife and pointed it at the offender.

“You did that on purpose, you filthy little beast! Wanna see how tough you are against a prepared opponent?”

The dog lunged forward and snapped his maw at Hancock's face, but never leaving the bed.

“Oh, think you’re so clever, dontcha? Let me tell ya-..”

 

“What exactly is going on here?”

Doctor Amari stood in the door with her bag, observing the fight.

“He started it,” Hancock said and heard how idiotic it sounded. The dog whined and tried to place itself in front of the vaultie again.

“Really, Hancock, it was just trying to protect it’s owner. It’s only a dog. And such a good boy, aren’t you?” She approached the bed and petted the large dog, who was now quite friendly, wagging it’s tail frantically.

“Damn mutt,” Hancock sneered, but wisely put the knife away. While he would get some satisfaction of stabbing the animal to death, Amari would be traumatized and the vaultie would never forgive him for it. One glance at the smug dog told him it was aware of his predicament. Evil thing.

“And what happened here? Did she start another fight?” Amari opened her bag and started rolling out a bandage.

“Nah, that ain’t it. Marowski’s guys started the fight, and she got caught in the middle.”

“Well, she’s lucky. The eye is intact, but the eyebrow will need a couple of stitches. She will also need a stimpak and a days rest. Really unfortunate that this should happen so soon after all her other injuries. The human body can only take so much before it shuts down to heal.”

“Do what needs to be done, doc. She caught that glass for me, you know I’m good for the caps.”

“Very well. And the dog?”

The evil mutt cocked it’s head and stared at him. Hancock had a prickly need to get his knife out again.

“Can’t seem to get rid of it. It can stay, for now.”

Until I find a way to lock you in a downstairs cell, he reflected and gave the dog a false smile. It smiled back with a baring of all the teeth in it’s maw.

“Good. It will be nice for the woman to see her companion by her side when she wakes up.”

“Fine. I’ll be downstairs when you’re done.”

As he descended the stairs, he heard the doctor talk to the dog in a high sympathetic voice.

“Is the bad man mean to you? Yes he is. Yes he is.”

Hancock rolled his eyes and dropped down in the couch. What was the deal with women and that fur ball?

 

* * *

 

**Two days later**

After opening her eyes, Nora recognized the ceiling of mayor Hancock’s room and groaned. How had she ended up back here? Jumbled pieces of memories flashed in her mind, and she looked around with crusted eyes. Was there water nearby? Nora failed to see any bottles, but as she moved around, she felt a strange tightness on her brow. Carefully feeling her way up along her face, she winced as the fingertips came into contact with a bandage. Fuck. She’d stepped into another fight that strictly weren’t her concern. And she’d goaded the mayor again. It seemed like a good idea at the time, but now she was here, back in his bed and no caps to show for it. He’d probably payed for her medical care too. Twice fucked. The wooziness she felt as she got up was alarming, but at least she had one friendly face around. Dogmeat was sitting beside her, tail waiving up every speck of dust present on the bed.

“Hey boy. Glad you’re here,” she said and ruffled his thick fur. He whined happily and stuck a cold nose in her face.

“Iiiih. All right, all right, we should move. Can’t keep coming back here all the time.”

The dog jumped down from the bed and shook itself, then looked behind expectantly.

“Okay boy, on my way.”

“By the time she’d managed to scrounge up all her things and wobbled down the stairs, she was feeling a little faint. No telling how long she’d been out this time, and she was starved. Before she could fix that, she had to square things with the mayor, and he was probably lounging in his favorite spot, that worn down sofa on the second floor. Judging by the way the state house guards were opening doors for her, she was expected to make an appearance before his highness. Damn. There was nothing for it. Nora steadied herself and entered.

 

The mayor was over by the bench, rattling some old boxes of cereal, and didn’t acknowledge her at first. Nora let her bag drop to the floor and sat down on the arm of the couch.

“Mayor.”

He turned his head and chuckled.

“My favorite guest. Guess your little sleepover is over for the time being.”

“Yeah, uh, thank you for that. Not sure where I’d be without you dragging me back here.”

“No problem. Not every day I have women throwing themselves in front of broken glass to save my ugly mug.”

“Ah well.. The whole ting was kind of my fault. I started that stupid wager, and without it..”

“Jorgen would still be attacked on sight by that ex-boyfriend of his. You can’t take all the credit for that,” Hancock grinned. “Noodles?”

He held out a cup, and Nora could see the steam arising from it. Her mouth began to water.

“If you can spare one, yes please.”

“If I can spare one,” Hancock chuckled. “Not much of a host if I don’t feed my guest.”

“Even uninvited ones?”

“Everyone. Even the annoying ones,” he said and glanced at Dogmeat.

“Has he given you trouble?” Nora asked and stroked the dog’s ears.

Hancock mulled that over for a second too long, before answering.

“Ain’t been a problem.”

He handed the cup to her, and Nora tried to eat like a civilized person, but her hunger soon trumped her table manners and she drank the noodles down like soup. The mayor pretended not to see this, for which she was grateful.

“So,” he finally said after she was done eating, “how’dya do it?”

“Do what?”

“My retinue. Or my harem, as you called them. I’ve been, whats’ the word I’m lookin’ for, agog with anticipation for that.”

“I have my ways,” Nora smiled.

“Tell me, or you won’t get any more noodles from me,” he joked and dropped into the couch.

She shrugged. “I merely said that my prowess would outshine yours like the sun does the moon. And that if I was wrong they could always go back to the Rail and find you, provided that the feeling in their legs returned.”  
Hancock’s face split in a disbelieving grin, before he roared with laughter. Nora let out a short laugh of her own.

“I was planning on giving them the slip afterwards, but the night ended a lot better than I had planned.” She pointed at the bandage on her face with an ironic grin.

“Beauty can be such a curse you know.”  
“Serves you right for running off with my entertainment. That can’t be all, though. Not to brag but I'm pretty famous for my.. oratory skills, if ya get my drift.”  
“That’s all I’m willing to reveal, mister Mayor. My days of sportfucking is over.”

“And yet you stole my entire harem on your way out. Could’ve fooled me,” he said, leering at her.

Nora chuckled again.

“Come on, did you think I would give myself lockjaw over a measly 150 caps?”

Hancock grinned from ear stub to ear stub. Clearly, that was an idea he’d thought about a lot.

“Seemed a bit excessive, even for me. So, I have your caps here.” He tossed a small pouch on the table among the chems.

“But you know I won't accept them. You dragged me back here, again. And got me stitched up, a-..” “Again,” he cut in. “This time you took a blow for me. That bottle that was meant for my face. Not that I don't appreciate you saving my scarred hide, but what gives?”

Nora looked down.

“I partly created that situation by that ridiculous wager. If I hadn't try to shut you up and take a few more caps off you..”

She trailed off. Hancock waited, a soft smile playing in the corner of his mouth. Nora shook her head and gave a sheepish smile.

“Karma, right. Got what I deserved for that one. So I'd say we’re even?” She hoped he would not press her for caps, she was going broke at a disturbing rate in this town.

 

* * *

 

Hancock tried not to stare too much at the vaultie. Extended eye contact with a ghoul wasn’t for the faint of heart, and he really couldn’t figure this one out. He considered pushing the case for his victory in their wager, but decided against it. Somehow, this woman was trying to both rip him off and be fair about it. She occasionally had such a filthy mouth he wanted to shove her over his desk and give her exactly what she seemed to want, and 5 minutes later she could be the woman before him now, devoid of sexual innuendo, merely those big doe-eyes gazing into his and asking if they were all right. She was the most interesting thing that had stumbled into Goodneighbor for years, and he wanted her to stick around as long as possible. He sighed.

“Yeah, sure. You and me, we're good.”  
The relief on her face made him feel oddly satisfied.

“Thanks. I’ll try not to occupy your bed again. I realize I said that last time, but..”

“No worries,” he grinned. “Glad to be of service. If you need any more servicing when you’re awake, you’re still welcome back any time.”

“Not afraid of lockjaw?” Nora said with a faint smile that made his cock stir.

“Not with this mileage, sister. But please leave the dog, don’t want him staring at me while I’m hard at work.”

“And are you?” Nora smiled innocently.

“Am I what?”

“Hard? At work?” She suggestively glanced down at his crotch.

“Not yet, but keep that up and I will be,” he growled playfully.

“All right, all right, I’m leaving. I apparently have several warehouses to clear, some big shot in this town sending a message.”

“Sounds important. Stop by later and tell me how it went.”

“I might.”

The vaultie winked at him and swayed her hips as she walked out on him. Some day, Hancock swore to himself, she’d stay in his bed because she was to sore and tired to walk away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a short chapter this time, but next time we'll (hopefully) see more action and activity around Goodneighbor.


	5. Birth of a Shroud

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nora does some work around Goodneighbor, and Hancock deals with some facts of life.

“So, how do you wanna play this?” MacCready checked his cartridge belt one last time and reloaded his .308.

“That’s what you’re going to take to a close indoor fight? Really?” Nora looked from the sniper rifle to the man.

“You have a rifle,” he said accusingly. “And I’m a professional.”

“This is a short-barrel .45, and I… Fuck it, never mind. Just don’t get me killed, and I’ll let you wade in with a fucking missile launcher, okay?”

“That’s what I like to hear,” he grinned with black teeth.

“Hope you don’t mind thievery, because I’m loosing money on this gig, and I intend to steal everything that isn’t nailed down,” Nora warned.

“Not a problem, long as we’re splitting the loot.”

“You’ll get your share.”

“Your dog didn’t seem happy when you locked him in the room at Rexford.”

“Can’t have him shot to pieces in here, I hear those guys have machine guns. Too much spray for my liking.”

“But you can have me shot to pieces?” MacCready sounded almost offended.

“That’s what I’m paying you an exorbitant amount of money for. Let’s go.”

 

* * *

 

Breaking into the place was easy, ascending three floors through a hail of bullets was not. Whomever Hancock's competition was, they packed some serious firepower, and Nora was glad she’d taken the advice of hiring an extra gun. While she was distracting the main thrust of their attack, MacCready hung back and sniped them off one by one. At the same time, the sniper wasn’t all that comfortable with being pressed into a corner, but Nora had learned to use her bayonet to deadly effect, making them a great balancing act. It took the pair of them three long trips to Daisy’s and Kill or be Killed, but they cleaned out every warehouse, even going so far as to strip the dead bodies of clothes. Daisy’s dark eyes glinted when she saw the blood, but she never complained, merely gave them a good price. She and MacCready seemed to know each other already, but Nora didn’t ask. Everybody had secrets in the wasteland.

“Well, boss? Looks like we got that done right,” MacCready grinned and jangled the caps in his purse. “Got any more jobs in Goodneighbor?”

“Not right now, no. This town has not been good to my monetary situation, I’m barely breaking even, even after hauling all that loot from those warehouses.”

“Aw, no sweat, you and me, we’ll meet some people with axes to grind out there, and get the caps rolling in.”

“Don’t you lead my girl into trouble, you hear?” Daisy said behind the counter. “Not everyday I meet someone from the olden days in Goodneighbor.”

“You finally decided to believe me?” Nora smiled to the old ghoul.

“Maybe. Why don’t you go see one of the other oldies around here? Goes by the name Kent, runs that radio show with the Silver Shroud program. Always makes me smile, listening to that.”

“Ain’t that a kid’s show?” MacCready frowned, and got slapped over the head with a newspaper for his trouble.

“It’s a classic, show some respect.”

“Ouch. All right, all right. If the boss says we’ll go see him, we’ll go.”

Nora hid a grin.

“I guess we can spare a few minutes. See you later, Daisy.”

“Never get on her bad side,” MacCready whispered as they left.

“I heard that, Mac.”

“Yikes!”

 

* * *

 

After 10 minutes in the company of Kent Connolly, Nora was convinced he was quite mad, but in a harmless, only a danger to himself-kind of way. Perhaps that last part was debatable, because somehow, he managed to talk her into going halfway through Boston’s worst ruins in search of the Silver Shroud costume.

 

“You’re nuts, you know that?” MacCready sulked beside her and kicked an old burnt out tire.

“Yeah, yeah. You know, this place might be full of caps and other goodies, and I need caps to pay my dog out of the Rexford.”

“Quit dreaming.”

“I’m serious. These old studios used to be filled with drug-addled actors, that means both money and chems. Probably some guns we can flog to K-L-E-O as well.”

“Really? Perhaps you’re not as crazy as I thought.”

“Oh, thanks, MacCready.”

“I’m just saying, old Kent’s been sitting in there, blabbing about the Shroud for years, and you show up and run on a mission for him minutes after meeting him. Makes people wonder.”

“I point, you shoot, that was the deal, right?”

“Sure, but with you dead, I’m without a client, and dead clients give a bad rep.”

“Not dead yet, Mac, so cheer up.”

He grumbled beside her all the way to Hubris Comics.

 

* * *

 

“You know, staring at the gate will not teleport her back,” Fahrenheit scoffed behind his back.

“Yeah, I know. I just got a message from Charlie, the warehouses are cleared.”

“Hey, the little nitwit made it, and without getting herself killed. Not too shabby.” Fahrenheit sat down and returned to her paperwork. “You don’t have anymore jobs for her right now, so stop staring out the window. Plenty of things to do around here for the mayor.”

“Yeah, I know. It’s just.. she was gonna stop by, let me know how it went.”

“Did she say that,” Fahrenheit said in a suspicions tone.

“She said she might.”

“Might. Look, she’s probably rolled outta town with some handsome grifter, she’ll be back when the caps are gone.”

“She left the dog,” Hancock said absentmindedly. “She’ll have to come back for it soon.”

Fahrenheit put down her pencil and raised an eyebrow.

“The dog. You’re spying on a dog.”

“It’s a big dangerous dog,” he said defensively.

“Hancock, I know it’s not often you fail at getting some poor penniless drifter in your bed, but this is pathetic. Get Sarah. Get Inga. Get Jorgen, and be done with this. We need to find where Sinjin’s hiding, and this pining is beneath you.”

“Fine!” Hancock turned away from the window. “I’ll go have a drink at the Rail, unwind, and then we’ll find that bastard.”

“Good. That’s what I like to hear.” Fahrenheit was already back with her papers, and ignored him as he stomped out.

 

Down at the Third Rail, the only one of his usual crew he could spot was Jorgen. It was too early in the morning for the rest of them to have crawled out of bed, but Jorgen was usually good fun. Usually. Hancock sat down beside him, and regretted it at once. The guy look like he hadn’t slept for days.

“Heya, Hancock. Looking for a tour of the town?”

“Uh, not right now. You feelin’ all right?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Fine,” he slurred. “You seen the woman?”

There was little doubt who he was referring to, but Hancock held out hope to the last.

“What woman?”

“The woman woman. The one with the dog.”

“Nah, I ain’t seen her.”

“Me neither. I have to. I owe her.”

“Jorgen, you ain’t been stealing something to give her?”

“No, of course not.” His eyes shifted slightly, and Hancock was immediately suspicious.

“You sure?”

“Would I lie?”

Hancock met Jorgen’s watery stare, and decided not to start an argument. The poor guy wasn’t a match for him on his best of days. White-chapel Charlie swooped in and placed a drink in front of Hancock. He ignored it.

“’Course not. What about the woman?”

“She tried to help me. I ain’t ever done anything to help her, I don’t owe her money, hell, I ain’t even fucked her, but she tried to help me. Nobody’s done that for me since.. since Rhys.”

Oh boy, Hancock thought. Life story ahoy.

“Who’s Rhys?”

“Some guy I used to run with, back in the capital wasteland.”

“Never told me this before.”

“I, uh..” Jorgen suddenly looked scared. “Rhys is kinda the love of my life.”

“Sometimes life takes a man far away from his love. I ain’t offended.”

“It’s just.. he left to join the Brotherhood of Steel.”

Hancock sighed and leaned back. “Now that could be a problem.”

“They, they wouldn’t take me in because I have a chem-habit. Rhys said he’d take care of me, but I went on a binge and I, uh, I missed our rendezvous. Never found him again, so I took a caravan out here.”

“Jorgen, I hate to point this out, but you have a boyfriend in the Brotherhood, and you fuck ghouls. Something bad is gonna come from that, lemme tell ya.”

“I know.. I just sorta, tried not to think about him, nobody’s really done stuff for me without expecting something in return. Until she showed up. Tried to hide me behind her, told Daxton to fuck off, and me to run away. I was so high, run in the wrong direction, and he got me. She grabbed my other arm and tried to pull me away.”

“Hey, I showed up to help, remember? And Ham.”

“I know, but.. You and I have a kind of arrangement, yeah? Favor for a favor.”

Hancock knew exactly what kind of favors he liked to get from Jorgen, and felt a glimmer of shame.

“Yeah, I know.”

“Hey, I liked it too, you know I did,” Jorgen said hurriedly. “It’s just.. not the same kind of help.”

“I know.”

“Can you let me know where she is, If she comes back? I wanna say thanks.”

“Sure can.”

Jorgen seemed to notice that he’d made Hancock upset with his earlier comment.

“Hey, if you want, we can-..”

“Nah, I’m good. Just wanted a drink before starting doing paperwork. Mayoral duties, ya know.”

He knocked back the warm drink in one go, and slid off the chair.

“See you around, Jorgen.”

“Mayor..”

“Get some sleep. You look like hell.”

“Will try.”

When he walked up the escalator, Hancock cursed the vaultie that had stumbled into his town and interfered with his usual setup. _A boyfriend in the Brotherhood._ Egads, that would come back to bite him in the ass, and not in a good way. Perhaps it would be better if the woman never returned at all. Or just picked up her dog in the middle of the night and was never seen or heard from again. He marched into the statehouse, determined to force all thoughts of her out of his head. She was nobody, and he was the goddamn mayor.

 

* * *

 

“Look at this!” MacCready held up his bandaged arm in front of Nora. “It bit me!”

“I told you to use the shotgun I gave you, but no, you had to use your own precious sniper rifle. I gave you all the radaway I have, stop complaining.”

“It bit me!”

“It’s a glowing one, what did you expect it to do?”

“This is your fault.”

Nora pinched the bridge of her nose. Sometimes MacCready acted like a child, and on their short trip she’d discovered that feral ghouls almost always set him off. She hadn’t figured out the reason why yet, but she did know what could distract him.

“Think of the loot instead. An entire lockbox of chems, like I told you. All those lovely caps, split between us.”

A long silence followed, until MacCready decided he’d whined enough.

“Okay, that part wasn’t so bad. We got a fair score, I’ll give you that much.”

“Caps is good, right? That’s what you’re always saying.”

“The bandage is done pretty well too,” Mac continued. “Could be worse.”

“I’m glad you’re happy,” Nora said with only a smidgen of sarcasm.

“Don’t know about that silly costume, though. I mean, Kent is a weirdo, but I don’t want him running around, playing vigilante. Might get himself killed.”

“It won’t come to that, he’ll plaster the coat and the fedora on the wall with these other memorabilia, and feel a little happier every day when waking up to his long life.”

“I guess,” MacCready said. “We better get a reward for this.”

“Making other people happy is not enough?”

“Hel-.. I mean, heck no! We risk our lives for this, people better cough up the caps.”

“All right, Mac, I’m sure we’ll get something for our troubles.”

“We better.”

 

* * *

 

And they did. After their return to Goodneighbor, unloading their junk and subsequent trip to the memory den, Nora wondered how she’d ended up walking out of there carrying a gleaming silver machine gun, a black fedora and an even blacker trench coat, ready to dispense justice old style. Behind her, even MacCready forgot to complain about the lack of reward what with all his snickering and guffaws. Insanity was catching, she thought as she tuned into the Silver Shroud radio channel. Time to mop up and get the hell out of this town.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I write that Mac whines a lot, but he's one of my favorite characters, so I'm not hating on the guy. He's just unbelievable immature sometimes, for a guy that's supposed to be a responsible father. As for Rhys being gay, poor Haylen always seems to favor Danse after a while, and I wanted another reason that he (Rhys) is always so gruff, no matter what you do or say to the guy. Lost love is always painful.


	6. Dispensing justice and meeting Cait

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nora takes her role as the Shroud a little too serious, and MacCready meets the new love of his life.

 

According to the announcement on the Silver Shroud radio channel, a woman called miss Selmy and her son had been murdered by a local thug called Wayne Delancy. Nora fiddled with the big machine gun and waited for MacCready to say something about working for nothing again, but he was dead silent. She turned her head to see if he actually caught the news, and was startled to find that he was grinding those dark teeth with an almost insane look on his face. Apparently, dead kids were the one thing he didn’t nag about. Well, it was something.

“We have a murderer to find. Let’s go.”

“Yeah, lets..”

MacCready followed her like a shadow. Nora ignored the comments that followed them all over town.

“Oh no, the silver Shroud, in the flesh. Death is coming for me, ahahahaha.”

“The Silver Shroud? Ain’t that a kid’s show?”

She would have the last laugh once she’d smote every criminal in this town. The second she’d actually had that thought, she wanted to run all the way back to Sanctuary Hills and never look back. The trench coat was rubbing off on her.

 

* * *

 

They found Delancy in an alley, hunched over a fresh corpse that he’d apparently sent on its way himself. Nora wondered if Hancock's open door policy perhaps needed a small adjustment, but the mayor seemed adamant about letting in all the riffraff of the ruins, and this was an inevitable result. At least Delancy would get his.

“Wayne Delancy?”

“What’s with the fancy duds? Looks expensive. Might be I’ve found a new friend.”

It was said with the cocksure expression of a man that had no qualms about murdering, and no doubt about the next outcome. Something snapped in Nora’s head. She twisted her voice and suddenly, she was the Shroud.

“Your crimes has gone unpunished for too long.”

The man narrowed his eyes and stared at her.

“What the hell is wrong with you? Well, nothing a few bullets won’t cure.”

He pulled out a rifle, but Nora already had her machine gun out and fired off an entire magazine while cackling madly. The man, the alleyway and the trash bin behind him was riddled with bullets in seconds, and MacCready hadn’t even fired a shot. He stood behind her with his mouth hanging open.

“Damn.. I mean.. Dang.”

“Yeah, uh, that was a little over the top,” Nora said after she’d changed ammo-drum and hurriedly put the machine gun away.

“No, that was awesome! Like the radio show, We’re like, heroes of the street or something.”

She glanced at MacCready. Now he was going nuts too.

“Hey, put the calling card down. People need to know the Shroud is in town.”

“Mac, aren’t you going to help me strip him? I think the armor would still fetch a good price, despite a few.. ahem.. holes.”

“Huh? Yeah, yeah, and then, we put the card on his chest. Hard to miss.” MacCready was excited like a little kid. “The Silver Shroud.. wow.. He’s gonna be so proud.”

Nora didn’t ask who _he_ was. If MacCready would ever want to tell her, she’d hear about it soon enough.

 

* * *

 

After they’d dispensed of A.J the drug dealer and Nora’d been down at the Third Rail to declare that Whitechapel Charlie stood between her and righteous Justice, she decided to take a break. Kendra the murderer/assassin wasn’t going anywhere by the sound of it. She was holed up in Water Streets Apartments just outside Goodneighbor, doing whatever murderers did in their spare time. It was time to get Dogmeat and return to Sanctuary Hills, if for no other reason than to reassure Preston that she wasn’t dead yet, and hadn’t forgotten about her general duties. The ever expanding network of settlements needed constant supervision, and she’d been away from the trading routes for a while. A trading deal with Goodneighbor would be helpful, but Preston wasn’t overfond of ghouls after Lexington. He tried to hide it, but his skepticism was there. Nora tried not to think about that she’d harbored much of the same prejudices before coming to Goodneighbor. Daisy had helped overcome some of them. The mayor.. the mayor still unsettled her. She hadn’t seen him for a while, and perhaps that was her own fault. She hadn’t checked in after doing his last job, but Whitechapel Charlie was his agent in the matter, and she’d checked in with him for her meager reward. Even if she’d come to enjoy bantering with the tricorner-wearing old ghoul, she had other things to attend to, like a permasulking dog hiding under the bed at the hotel.

“Come on boy, come out,” she wheedled. “Got some cram for you.”

All she heard was a short scoff and paws scrabbling around.

“Aw, I said I was sorry. I was afraid you’d get shot.”

A muffled sad woof sounded from the hiding dog.

“Just leave him,” MacCready suggested. “I’m sure Hancock can find some caravan to sell him to.”

Dogmeat growled.

“Thanks, Mac. That’s not helpful.”

“It’s a dog! We can get you another one.”

The growling grew louder.

“No we can’t. He’s my friend, and he joined me without asking for caps. I won’t leave him,” Nora glared at the sniper. “You don’t leave friends just because you’ve hurt them. You apologize and try to work it out.”

“It’s a dog, Nora. A stupid mutt.”

“Not listening to you.” She sat down on the bed and patted the mattress. “Dogmeat, please… I missed you.”

MacCready rolled his eyes and slumped in a chair, but Dogmeat had stopped growling.

“Don’t you want to go on a long walkie, boy? We’re heading back to Sanctuary, you can hunt as many mole-rats as you want on the way.”

“Woof?”

“Promise.”

“Just shoot me,” MacCready groaned.

There was a sound of crawling paws, and Dogmeat emerged from under the bed.

“There you are, boy. Com’ere.” Nora grabbed the dog and ruffled his fur while he yapped with delight.

“Are you two done?” MacCready said. “Never catch me fawning over another person, let alone a dog like that.”

“One day, Mac, you’ll eat those words.”

“Hah!”

 

* * *

 

When they left Goodneighbor, Nora still wore the Shroud costume, and from the second floor of the statehouse, Fahrenheit shook her head in disbelief. She cast a backwards glance at the mayor in his red frock, sitting at his desk and irritably writing in this months security reports on his computer. He’d not been his old carefree self since that day at the Rail, and Fahrenheit suspected it had something to do with the woman now parading around town like the Silver Shroud. Hancock had heard the rumors about a vigilante dressed as Kent’s old hero, but the Shroud’s true identity was not yet revealed, and only the large dog and the presence of MacCready told Fahrenheit the likely identity for the new dispenser of justice lurking around town. If Hancock's mood didn’t lighten up soon, perhaps a visit from the Shroud would help. It was something to think about.

 

* * *

 

“RUN!”

The Shroud, the sniper and the dog ran away as fast as their legs could carry them, out of the commons, all the while being pursued by the largest behemoth either of them had ever seen.

“Dang, did you see the wings?”

“Run, idiot!”

“I can hear the clicking of radiation all the way here.”

“Mac, just fucking run!”

Over them on a walkway some raiders opened fire, but they ignored it. A bellow from the behemoth told them the raider had managed to hit it, and the thundering footsteps stopped. They didn’t slow down for a second, and the gunfire was cut short by a loud bang and the sound of dozens of bricks struck from a building and clattering down on the pavement.

“There, down there,” Nora pointed at a large set of doors.”

“Whoa, that’s the Combat Zone, nobody non-raider comes back from here,” Mac protested.

The large footsteps resumed behind them.

“Uh, not saying we can’t be the first,” Mac said and hoisted the rifle off his shoulder. “Right behind you.”

“Fine. In you go, Dogmeat, go, go, go.”

Nora shooed the dog in and they just managed to slam the door before the behemoth rounded the corner. They heard it grunt and slam the boat it was carrying as a weapon into a nearby building, but it couldn’t see or hear them. Another raider opened fire against the creature, and it lumbered ahead to find the irritating gnats.

“Your fu-.. frigging timing,” MacCready panted. “Oh, look, is that a chem-box?” he said in a high pitched voice to mimic hers. “I want to check it out, wait here.”

“Shut up, Mac. I got the chems, okay?”

“Oh, I’m not saying you can’t pick a lock, I’m saying you don’t have any sense in that da-.. dang head of yours.”

“Really? Where was that sniper sight I’m paying for who couldn't spot a goddamn _behemoth_ swimming around that pond?”

“That’s.. it was DARK!”

“Will you two shut up?”

Nora and MacCready spun around with guns at the ready, but the voice that spoke sounded more bored than dangerous. Dogmeat hadn’t alerted them to danger either. Nora took in the foyer they were standing in. Behind a set of bars, two raiders were kneeling and back-bound. A din of voices came from the large doors further in. What had this place been before the war? A movie theater? Probably.

“I got punished enough, don’t need to hear your two squabble all day,” one of the raiders spat.

Nora took one look at the door that held the raiders locked up.

“Want to see if they have anything in their pockets?” she said nonchalantly to MacCready.

“After you, my lady,” he grinned and pointed his rifle at the raiders, if they should object to being robbed a second time.

After relieving the raiders of the ammo in their pockets, MacCready actually swapped the sniper rifle for a shotgun.

“Hey, so.. uh. Should we wait for the behemoth to get back to his midnight dip, or should we clean house in the meantime?”

“I think there’s some form of betting going on here, right?”

“Yeah, I’ve heard they bet on cage fights.”

“So that means caps or chems in abundance. Might as well help ourselves, right?”

MacCready’s smile was a sight to behold.

“I knew you’d see things my way.”

“All right, let’s stay low at first.”

Nora crouched down and pushed open the door. A man on a loudspeaker announced that the undefeated Cait still took on all comers, and who would take on this god of the arena?

“Up there,” she whispered. “Clear the walkways first, then concentrate on the lower seats.”

Before they made it halfway up, the speaker caught sight of them.

“We have some newcomers in the hall. Step right up, take a-.. wait a minute! These people don’t belong here!”

The moment that followed felt like an eternity, then pandemonium broke loose. Shotguns and rifles fired off everywhere, loud snarling, and not only at her and Mac. The different raider factions clearly had no love for the others, and long-held suspicions of treason and backstabbing came out in the open and resulted in indiscriminate shooting and maiming.

“I thought I had axes to grind,” MacCready shouted over the noise as they fought their way up to the makeshift hospital.

“Think again,” Nora called back and used her knife to stab a man in the neck, then lined his body up as cover while she stuffed stimpaks in her bag.

“He won’t need it anymore.”

MacCready had switched back to his .308 and was picking off raiders in the downstairs bar.

“This is going to net us soo many caps.”

“Glad you like it.”

“Hey, I aim to please, too.” He squeezed the trigger, and a short yell told Nora it was a hit.

“Whoho, you should’ve seen that!”

“Show me later.” She pulled out her shotgun, and made her way down the stairs. The raiders were in full disarray, and she made short work of the ones she met, while Mac covered her from above.

After about 25 minutes, the theater was filled with smoke and blood, and only one cage fighter and the announcer were still alive and cowering in the middle of said cage.

“Hey, I was always rootin’ for ya,” the man called out. Closer up, Nora could see he was a ghoul. She turned to Mac, whom shrugged and continued to rifle through a dead raider’s pockets.

“Can you come up here and we can talk this out like civilized people?”

Nora and Mac continued to search the place for every useful item they could procure, with the begging ghoul in the background.

Finally, when neither of them could carry anything else, they entered the arena.

“We don’t want any trouble. Not any more, at least.”

The voice of a woman barked over the hesitant ghoul.

“Oh, just peak your head up, ya damn coward.”

“To heck with that, I’m too pretty to go out like this.”

Their absurd argument made Nora grin, and she nudged MacCready in the arm. The guy said nothing, merely gawped at the redheaded woman in a corset. When they got closer, the ghoul got up.

“Is it over? Well, that could’ve gone worse.”

“Heh. I dunno. Seemed quite the performance from where I was standin’,” said the cheeky woman.

“Are you fucking high or something? Why am I asking, of course you are.” The ghoul sounded angry.

“Still won the fight, didn’t I?”

“You’re strung out and getting sloppy is what you are.”

The pair seemed to have forgotten that the ones that slew their entire audience was standing two meters away.

“Course, I suppose you ain’t got to worry about that now. Seems this one put us out of business. I’m not sure if I should kiss you or have my little bird here feed you your own entrails.”

“I told you to quit callin’ me that!”

“What is this place?" Nora asked when she could get a word in edgewise.

“Not from around here, huh. This is the Combat Zone, Finest arena in the Commonwealth. Cait here’s the headliner. Hundred plus matches, undefeated. We used to serve a more legit clientele, but about two years ago a gang of Raiders rolled in and we became more.. exclusive. Up until you took our entire client base out of the gene pool and put us out of business that is.”

The ghoul sounded like he had plenty of more breath to blabber on, and Nora understood why he was the announcer. The man could talk the head of anyone.

“I saved your lives. You should be grateful.” She said it just to spite the man. He sounded like he could take anyone’s caps and still sleep soundly at night.

“Grateful?” he hissed. “For killing our meal ticket? Excuse me if I don’t rush to embrace our savior. They weren’t the friendliest bunch, but keeping those idiots entertained at least kept the lights on.”

“To hell with them,” the redhead shouted. “More’ll come. Just need a quick breather and I’ll be ready to go.”

“A breather? So you can slam more junk in your arm? No, no. You know what? I think this was a blessing in disguise.” He turned to Nora.

“You caught the end of that bout? Whad’ya think of Cait’s work?”

“I’ve seen better.” It was a stupid thing to say, but the words flew out of her mouth before she could stop them.

“Hah! Like hell you have!” The woman called Cait glared at her.

“And when she’s armed and within closing distance? Brave.”

 

* * *

 

The ghoul’s name was Tommy, and after a lot more talk, he came to his point. As Nora and MacCready had put them out of business, he wanted to sell Cait’s contract to Nora. Cait herself went ballistic and accused the ghoul of wanting to get rid of her, and he threatened her with a lifetime of enjoying his company. Cait visibly cringed at the idea, and agreed to the transfer. Nora wasn’t so sure. The woman seemed very volatile.

“Mac, what do you think? Mac?”

MacCready jerked out of his daydream of gazing at Cait’s ass, and stared wildly around the room.

“What? What?”

Nora sighed. She could already guess his answer. She turned to Tommy.

“Okay. I guess I could use someone to watch my back.”

“Good. It’s settled. Here’s the purse from the last fight. Exterminator’s fee.”

Nora pulled MacCready away so Tommy and Cait could have final words, but he didn’t seem happy about it. Cait was reasonably upbeat when she came over.

“Let me know when you want to head out.”

“Actually, we’re heading over to Sanctuary Hills right now, how about you come with us?”

“Fine.”

“I got some stuff with me, could you carry some? Any armor you want to use is yours.”

“What am I, a bank?” Cait sighed. “And what’s with the black trench coat? You some kind of perv?”

“Uh, I could carry that for you, Cait,” MacCready said with a hopeful smile.

“Are ya sayin’ I can’t carry my weight around here, little man?” Cait snarled.

“What?! No, I just..”

“And don’t think I haven’t seen ya staring at me arse! Keep yer hands to yerself unless ya want to lose them!” She swept most of the items on the table in her bag and hoisted it over her shoulder.

“Let’s go. I haven’t got all day.”

Nora flicked her eyes from Cait to Mac. The latter stood with a dreamy expression even after getting verbally slapped in the face.

“So strong,” he muttered to himself. “So beautiful.”

Nora rolled her eyes and patted Dogmeat on the head. It would be a long, long walk back to Sanctuary Hills.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next time I think we'll see the two costumed lunatics face off in a battle of banter, and Cait will prove she has a cruel sense of humor.


	7. Return to Goodneighbor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cait impresses the Vaultie with her capacity for destruction, and Hancock gets visitors...

In his ever increasing attempts to win Cait’s attention, MacCready had began telling the tale of the Silver Shroud and her cleansing of the wild streets of Goodneighbor. After having exhausted a number of topics and been met with only scoffs, he found Cait enraptured by the dramatic flair of the Shroud, and embellished the few missions from Kent with great pathos. Nora was resolved to be a good wingman, and Cait often turned around to check for confirmation to MacCready’s tall tales. The Shroud herself switched between giving a thumbs up or nodding and smiling. At last, MacCready had told everything, and as a last ditch effort told Cait the Shroud’s next target, Kendra the skilled murderer. When he mentioned the name of her address, Cait stopped dead in her tracks.

“Water Street Apartments, you say? That’s 15 minutes away.”

“Yeah, but we’re not doing that right now, we’re going to-..”

“Are ya telling me, that after tellin' me that, I can’t come with ya and fight with the Shroud? Is that what yer sayin’?” She glared at him.

“Uuuhh… Nora?” Mac pleaded.

Nora sighed and met the angry stare of Cait.

“If you really want to go, we can make a small detour, for you.”

Cait dropped her angry glare and looked startled.

“Really? Just like that?”

“Why not? You really want to do it, and we have to go sooner or later. Might as well be now.” Nora tried smiling her widest smile.

“I, uh… Yeah! Why not?! I wanna to be on the radio too.” Cait spun around to face Mac. “See? The Shroud doesn’t mind! Oh, this is gonna be so much fun.” She picked up the pace and almost jogged toward Waterstreet Apartments.

“I didn’t mind, really,” MacCready said weakly.

“Hey, relax. She’ll be in a better mood after we deal with Kendra. And try to tone it down a bit. I don’t think Cait’s the kind of girl that responds to badgering.”

Nora strode after Cait.

“Hey, I’m NOT badgering!”

“Woof.” Dogmeat looked at him with an open mouth.

“Stop smiling, stupid mutt,” he muttered and ran after the women.

 

* * *

 

Kendra’s hideout was a small apartment building with trash and rubble scattered around the entrance. Nora made an executive decision to have MacCready and Dogmeat on guard outside, while she took Cait through her paces inside. At least, that was the idea. As it turned out, letting Cait loose in a small closed room was like releasing a hurricane in a barn, there was a lot of flying debris and screaming bodies in the air.

“How’s it feel getting your ass kicked by a girl?”

“Up close and personal!”

“Time to make a mess!”

“Tearin’ you a new one!”

“Dyin’ time is here!”

By the time Cait had torn a raider’s arm off and proceeded to beat the man to death with it, Nora was slightly shell-shocked. The former cage fighter was a force unto herself, an uncontrollable, angry and moody force.

“So? Whaddya think?” Cait said with narrow eyes and waved towards the dead and dying raiders.

“I think.. I think there’s nobody like you, Cait. This is.. very impressive,” Nora said, and meant it. It was impressive. In a horrific, nightmarish and spine-chilling way.

“Yeah? Knew you had an eye for talent, despite yer earlier comment.” Cait visibly relaxed. “Now let’s find the main bitch and kill’er.”

“Sure.”

On the way up, it was Nora’s turn to impress Cait, when she pulled the latter away from a hidden turret and dismantled a landmine in front of the entrance door to Kendra’s place.

“Not too shabby,” Cait shrugged, and gave Nora a pat on the back that knocked all the air out of her lungs. “Now, point out watcha need and I’ll get right on it.”

“Uuh,” Nora said and tried to re-inflate her lungs. “Let me do the Shroud thing, when Kendra attacks, we take her out. Watch out for more mines.”

“Fine. But I wanna leave the card this time.”

“Anything you want, Cait.”

 

* * *

 

When they burst through the door, Kendra was standing with her back turned at the chem-station. Turned out she’d been expecting them for a while, and not even Nora’s most threatening Shroud voice could scare the woman. It didn’t have to. Two seconds after Kendra tried to pull her weapon, her face was smashed in by a large baseball bat. Cait had come prepared. As the warm body of the infamous murderess keeled over, Cait grinned from ear to ear.

“Loved wipin’ the floor with ya.”

“Ahahah, yes,” Nora said carefully and edged away from her.

“The card! You promised.”

“Well, we want to get anything we can get from-..”

“First crack at the gear,” Cait called out and dived down to the body.

“Uhm, I’ll just be.. looking for chems over here.” Nora turned and started inspecting the shelves.

“Got some nice stuff here,” Cait said. “Picked and packed. The card?”

“Here, Make sure it’s nice and visible.”

“Right, right. Don’t want anyone stealin’ our glory now,” Cait said happily and placed the card on Kendra’s forehead. “That will show that little git outside. This is much more fun than cage fighting.”

“Glad you feel that way,” Nora said and swept the last chems in her bag.

“Now if we could only find summat to drink, we’ll be in clovers.”

“We’ll keep an eye out.”

“You know, you’re not so bad,” Cait said and gave Nora another slap on the back.

“Thanks.” The word was a small wheeze.

“Let’s get to these Hills yer always talking about. Might be some decent grub there.”

The pair of them made their way back to down to continue the trek back to Sanctuary Hills.

 

* * *

 

_**8 days later** _

“General, another settlement have sent word. They’re in trouble. Ghouls are wandering out from a nearby ruin.”

Nora slumped down in her chair. There had not been a lot of time for resting after her return, and while Preston meant well, he was driving her crazy with all his incessant briefs and missions.

“Again?” Cait hissed. “Can’t these guys take a few shamblers themselves? I mean, we’ve given them enough of our guns, for chrissakes.”

Nora could have kissed Cait for that comment.

“Cait, not everyone has the talent for violence you have,” Preston said reproachfully.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Some people are gentle and nice.”

“And I ain’t? Listen, Garvey, you don’t know shite about me, so keep yer gob shut!”

“We need to help each other,” Preston began, but Nora cut him short.

“Enough. We’ll go help, but we seriously need a larger patrol base for our minute men or more people. I can’t be running all over the Commonwealth every time there is trouble.”

“Hear hear,” Cait added.

“It is your duty as general,” Preston said with a stern voice.

“My duty as general should be making all these people self-sufficient or have a standing militia ready in close proximity, not do everything myself,” Nora grumbled.

“Maybe, but until that time, it falls to you to raise the minutemen back to their former standing. And we do that by-...”

“Helping people,” Nora finished. “I know, but we also need to make more allies.”

“Is this about Goodneighbor or Bunker Hill again? Those places are not safe, and the leaders are little more than local tyrants.”

“That’s a little harsh, I’ve spoken to both Kessler and mayor Hancock, and-..”

“Kessler deals with raiders, and the mayor is a drug addled old ghoul. Hardly ones we’d want in the minutemen, are they?”

“Preston...” Nora said, exasperated.

“I think we should help the smaller settlements first. We’ll see about the others later.”

“You know, I could easily get rid of a body downstream of here,” Cait said to no one in particular. “It would float away like yesterday’s trouble.”

That made Nora chuckle, and Preston pursed his lips.

“I think I’ll be going now. Don’t do anything I wouldn't.”

“That doesn’t leave a hell of a lot, now does it,” Cait said to Preston’s receding figure. “So whaddya wanna do?”

Nora sighed. “Let’s clear Hangman’s alley, and make a pit stop at Goodneighbor. God knows I could use a drink away from this place.”

“Hell yes. What I wouldn’t give for a good stiff drink. So when are we off?”

“You want to go?”

“Well I don’t wanna stay here. That MacCready-fellow is making googly eyes at me, and your dirty little mole rat is beggin’ all me food.”

“You know I’ve seen you sneak him treats under the table, right? You’ll make him grow the size of a deathclaw at this rate.”

“He steals it!” Cait protested.

“Mhm..”

“He does!”

“Be ready to leave in an hour.”

“Sure. But I ain’t lyin’!”

“Of course you’re not, Cait.”

 

* * *

 

Hancock rubbed his temples and cursed the morning sun. The girl he'd brought back from the Third Rail had ran off during the night and nicked his last jet-inhalors. Any other chems he had hidden around was in his office, and he was unsure if he could manage the crawl over there to find something to ease the pain. 'Fucking greedy skank', he swore inwardly. It wasn't like he didn't share generously when he was awake. It was obvious why she’d bolted, his morning face could probably scare hungry supermutants. Too bad the one who didn't run from his bed didn't wanna fuck him either. He kept thinking of _her_ as his little vaultie, because despite any attempt to fuck or smoke her out of his head, she kept popping back whenever he had a quiet moment. She’d kept her word, cleaned out the warehouses without mentioning the price, and Hancock had made sure Charlie's initial offer was very low. She had to pay MacCready out of her own purse too, and that job probably set her back a few caps instead of pocketing some. He almost felt bad for this. Almost. Hancock was still annoyed that she’d gone off without saying goodbye, even if she’d made no promise and he could easily find other women or men to fill her place. Or rather, he used to. Now he kept seeing her face under him whenever he brought someone back here. Stupid woman.

“Ah, fuck it," he muttered out loud.

The vaultie had messed with his head, was all. Another couple of months, and he’d be right back where he usually was, drinking, fooling around, getting high and being mayoral. A lifetime of debauchery stretched out before him. For some reason, he shuddered. What was wrong with him? Hancock rubbed his eyes and felt around the bedstead for a water bottle. He managed a few sips, but still felt like he’d swallowed a desert. Enough of self pity. Time to think about official business.

Next item on his list of present day concerns was that on top his usual list of problems, now there was another costumed freak running around in Goodneighbor, dispensing ‘justice’ in accordance with Kent Connolly’s old world morals. Nobody knew who this Shroud character was, but it was bound to complicate things. The people killed belonged to his old eyesore Sinjin, and while he was not the biggest fish in the pond yet, if left alone to feed, the man would soon be a big shark with his eyes set on Goodneighbor. Surely this would be of interest to the harbinger of justice and his silver machine gun? If the Shroud killed Sinjin, he would be rid of a potential power player in the political game of chess Fahrenheit was always yapping about, and if Sinjin killed the Shroud.. well, he didn't know who the nutcase was, only Kent would be really upset by the loss, and Hancock might get a bead on Sjinjins whereabouts. He’d asked Kent to arrange a meeting with this new commonwealth hero, at Fahrenheit’s insistence. He was due any day now.

Hancock's reveries were interrupted by Fahrenheit yelling downstairs and his head started hurting again. From the shouting, the thieving girl from last night had left his bed to search the state house for more chems, and been caught in the act. Damn.. Fahrenheit could be vicious when she wanted to, and she wanted that most of the time. He slowly got up and swung his legs out of bed, hastily dressed himself and walked down to the office.

“Fahrenheit, just confiscate the chems and throw her out, no need to...”

He stopped himself, staring at the scene before him. Fahrenheit was struggling with a rather dirty drifter woman and two other women were leaning up against the wall and clearly enjoying the show. One of them was a redhead dressed in snug leather pants and a corset, the other wore a black trench coat and fedora. His eyes darted to the latter’s left arm. A pip-boy. Damn! Who else would be crazy enough to run around whacking the men belonging to the biggest menaces in the area. Both of the women stared unabashedly at Fahrenheit's struggle with the thief, before his bodyguard finally pinned the woman to the sofa, placing a knee at her back. The redhead broke into a harsh rowdy laughter.

“Well now, thieving in Goodneighbor is less dangerous than thieving at the Combat Zone. Over there we’d just toss'em to the supermutants. What's the matter sweetheart, he didn't please ya good enough, figured you deserved summat else for the hassle?”

Hancock bristled at the insinuation, and prepared to protest when he saw the vaultie grinning from ear to ear. The redhead was goading him, and the vaultie was having way too much fun at his expense. He turned to ask Fahrenheit again to get rid of the drifter. The evil grin on her face told him that she too was enjoying these little digs at his prowess. Hancock knew he could be loud when he had company, and Fahrenheit was a light sleeper. She was undoubtedly getting a little payback.

The redhead wasn't done yet.

“Ya know, if ya take in too much ghoul juice, next thing you'll turn into a glowing one yerself.”

The drifter woman now looked terrified.

“Oh yes, happened to a girl at the Zone. The process is a lot faster if ya swallow, know what I mean?”

The drifter girl started to scream and thrashed wildly against Fahrenheit, who looked like she was having a fit trying to contain her laughter. The girl broke free and ran blubbing down the stairs, whimpering something about a doctor. The three remaining women started laughing uncontrollably, while Hancock stood there, steaming. The girl was a thief, sure, but threatening her with turning into a feral for bedding him was too much. The implied lack of skill on his part hurt as well. The vaultie pushed herself off the wall and wiped some tears from the corner of her eyes.

“Really Cait, that was horrible. That poor thing will probably never open her legs again to any man.”

The woman called Cait grinned.

“So what, perhaps she'll never steal again as well.”

“Like you don't?”

“I don't get caught, sweetheart.”

Nora shook her head and turned to face a fuming Hancock. She straightened her face and boomed: “You look upon; The Silver Shroouuud!”

Cait and Fahrenheit stifled their laughter, and turned to watch the showdown between Goodneighbor’s two frocked freaks.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back with Hancock, and his never ending parade of bed chums. :) Well, up until now that is.. :D LOL


End file.
